Some Kind of Woman
by pyrexprodigy
Summary: After Horizon, Garrus can't find Shepard anywhere on the ship. She turns up drunk and sad in the last place he'd think to look for a sad, drunk Shepard. T for language. Previous Shepard/Kaidan. Implied Shakarian


**First time writing for this fandom! I just finished this game yesterday, and I absolutely loved it. I romanced Garrus. of course :3**

**Please enjoy and be kind with feedback.**

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The liquor in her hand is warmer than the gun she held only so many hours before. Garrus knows because he takes it from her before she can down the rest of the glass and pour herself another glass. Whether it's because she prefers her drinks warm or because she's been holding the glass so long, he has no idea. At the moment, it couldn't possibly matter less.

"What, just going to stand there?" she asks with a smirk. It isn't the regular Shepard smirk, but something a bit more lopsided and a bit less coordinated. He supposes this is what alcohol does to humans, but he wasn't really expecting it from this human. She's either stopped caring or she's seriously had a lot. A lot of what is the real question here.

"Are you implying I should join you?" he asks, warily putting distance between her and the glass of amber liquid in the glass. It's small in his hand, his three fingers wrapping around it delicately as though he could crush it as easily as one might squeeze a bug. He realizes that's pretty accurate actually.

"I don't see why not," Shepard replies, slumping into the wall. She's hidden out in the corner of the starboard observation room. Library, maybe? Something like that. Honestly, Garrus wouldn't have noticed her if he hadn't been looking. And he's glad he was looking, because from what he can tell she stinks of liquor and cold, hard angst. Or whatever one might call it.

"Well, I have a few reasons," he says. "One, you don't have turian liquor. No point in getting drunk unless it's the good stuff. Two, I think you've had enough. It's past time for you to head off to bed."

Shepard offers the weakest wink he has ever seen in his entire life. He'd roll his eyes normally. Then again, normally Shepard wouldn't be acting like a kid caught stealing from her parents' booze cupboard. Do humans have an equivalent for that? Who knows. Not like he'll ask.

"You are no fun," she says. "Go… go back to your calidrations. Calibibrations. Calistrations. Fuck."

"Fuck is right." He slides the drink off to the side, out of her reach and out of the way. probably not a good idea to put it on a bookshelf, but who cares at this point? Shepard's the only one who would yell at him for it. "Come on, Commander. You'll sleep this off and wake up fine. Promise."

She snorts. "Sure." Shepard draws out the s in a long slur his translator glitches on. "Ever'thin will be dandy. Nifty. Neat."

"Another word of the day calendar, huh?"

"Maybe."

He can't help but chuckle at that. "We'll get you some water and a nice nap. How's that sound?"

"Lonely."

He shrugs that off for the moment. According to the vids, drunk humans are overly emotional. Anything she says, she'll probably regret. Best to ignore anything unless she tries to shoot him. Which Garrus really hopes won't happen since it seems entirely possible now that he's pointed it out.

"I'll be right there. Most of the time," he adds quickly. She's spilled alcohol down the front of her clothes and he is not going to go there unless she's sober. Not even then necessarily.

She takes his hand and now Shepard's on her feet, wobbling into his side like a three-wheeled vehicle. Garrus finds his arm around her waist, supporting her loosely as he leads the way to her cabin. From this distance, he can see her Cerberus scars. He's used to her scars and hey, they match now. But it's weird to think about why they're there. How they got there, and what else might join them in the future. He catches himself wondering about her other scars. Are they gone now? He supposes he won't know.

"I see you got another fish. Or five," he remarks as Shepard moves herself into her cabin, stumbling down the stairs to her bed. He jumps forward when she trips, but she ends up face down on the bed with nothing more than an "oof" of discomfort.

"Garbus. Garrus," she says into her bed. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"Do y'think he meant it?"

"Who, Kaidan?" Garrus asks. It's a question he doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to think about, and doesn't want to let her think about. He had been right next to her on Horizon when Kaidan… Well, it was in the past. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

"Nah. The… the prince of Russia or whatever," Shepard replies. Her usual wit is lacking. She turns herself over lazily, staring to the side as she curls in on herself, hard falling across her face. Garrus can't see what her expression is anymore from this angle and is reluctant to step further into her room. But hell, he's gotten this far. Garrus Vakarian, master of pushing the boundaries.

"I'm sure that the prince of Russia didn't mean it," he says wondering what the hell Russia is. "And neither did Kaidan. He was probably just shocked and confused. People do stupid things when they're shocked."

_Spirits know I'm not innocent_, he thinks.

Her muffled reply of "yeah" is hardly satisfactory, but he doesn't push it.

"I was coming to check on you, actually," he admits before he can stop his mouth from moving like the absolute goddamn traitor it is. "I mean, you seemed pretty upset about it before we parted ways, so…"

There's a giggle from Shepard's side of the room and he's a bit surprised. In seconds, she's hiccupping, and he's by her side with water faster than he knows what's happened.

"Here." Garrus helps her sit up and ignores the traces of blotchy red on her face. Apparently a sign of crying. Humans don't like being seen crying, he knows. She drinks from the cup, hiccupping as she does. Garrus lets her relax back into her pillows, her eyes finding the ceiling as she stretches out, her hands hanging from the side of the bed.

"You're so damn sweet sometimes," she slurs. "I need to find a nice human man like you someday. Or girl. Or- or something. I don' know anymore."

"Come on," he says, pulling her jacket away and tossing it to the side. At least she smells less like a drunk now.

"Come on, come ooooon," Shepard repeats, turning over so her back is once more towards him. "Don't be boring."

"Boring? I-" he cuts himself off. With a sigh, Garrus does his best to pull the covers over her, though her legs do not seem to want to cooperate. How are these things even supposed to bend, anyway?

"Nooooo touching," she says. "You break it, you buy it."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Human saying. You break the thing, you buy the thing. Like at a store. I think."

_That's the most coherent thing you've managed to say this entire time._

"You aren't a product."

"I am commander Shepard! I'm Cerberus!" she giggles again. "I work for the no-good alien haters. Might as well be a product."

"That's not true," Garrus argues. "Commander, with all due respect, your ex was entirely wrong about you. Kaidan shouldn't have said any of the things he said."

There's a moment of silence. In the next moment, the covers shuffle as she turns to look at him. Her arms reach out, grabbing either side of his face.

"Heh. You're sweet."

And then she's asleep, her fingernails grazing his new scars as her arms fall onto the mattress.

Garrus leaves without another word and a hammering heart in his throat. He's going to kill Kaidan if he ever sees the fucker again.

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